


Patching Up

by atigerlilyangel, ecaracap



Series: The 100/Maze Runner Crossover [4]
Category: The 100 (TV), The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atigerlilyangel/pseuds/atigerlilyangel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecaracap/pseuds/ecaracap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Gladers plot a way out and Octavia finds an in with one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patching Up

Clarke had asked Octavia to take supplies up to their prisoners, since she and Bellamy had bigger problems to deal with. There was the impending threat of an attack and they weren’t sure if it was just Grounders this time - it might be Reapers too. Clarke had mentioned that Minho had looked a little worse for the wear the last time she saw him, since nothing had been done for the wounds he had sustained during questioning.

“Are we just gonna sit here?” Newt asks the group, as they sit huddled off in a corner of the room, trying to figure out their situation.

“Do you have a better idea?” Thomas says wearily, tired from doing nothing but sitting around for days.

“Doing something,” Minho says with a shrug, leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms - the confinement has made him irritable and itching to get out any way they can.

Brenda frowns, biting her lip, looking around thoughtfully. “We have to figure something out. It seems like they’re getting pretty comfortable just keeping us locked up in here.”

“Better than a maze,” Newt says with a slight, dark smirk.

Thomas and Minho chuckle, shaking their heads, unconvinced. “You think?” Thomas says, “At least we could run out there.”

“At least you could run out there,” Newt responds, with a hint of sorrow in his voice.

“Maybe I can take apart the walls,” Jorge says, trying to get back to their escape plan. “There’s gotta be wires, cables, pipes...something in the walls we can use. Or hotwire.”

Octavia pushes the hatch open, setting the bag of supplies up first and then crawling in herself. She closes the hatch again, swallowing a little thickly as she did.

“I wouldn’t suggest running away. Not yet anyway,” she says to them - being locked up here might be the safest seat in the house. She opens the bag, “I also don’t expect you to believe me.”

They all look at each other skeptically when she tells them not to run - that seems exactly like something a captor would tell them. But Thomas figures it would be pretty difficult to make a break for it from here anyway, with only one way out.

She looks at them sympathetically, pushing her slightly matted hair behind her ears with hands that are not totally clean of dirt, a far cry from how they first saw her. “So, you hungry? I’ve got food and water,” she says as she wipes her hands on her pants. 

“Starving,” Newt says dryly, but doesn’t make any move towards her and the food.

Thomas looks at him and rolls his eyes, scooting over closer to her. “Thank you. We appreciate it...really.”

“There’s some deer and some berries in there,” she says, not mentioning that she added the deer herself since she works the smokehouse - she didn’t think they could starve people they might set free to death. “Some water. And some medicine for you,” she says with a look to Minho.

Minho raises his eyebrows suspiciously at her, keeping his place against the wall, his arms crossed defiantly, “Just for me? How sweet. Beat me up then fix me up.”

She pulls out the medicine and then hands the bag to Thomas, “You can pass it around or something.”

She looks down when Minho looks at her, away from him, not because she’s done anything suspicious, but because she feels guilty for his current predicament. Locked up, beat up, hungry, thirsty - it wasn’t her intention at all to harm them, just to protect her people.

She makes no move towards Minho, since he’s being so hostile. “Maybe you should save the attitude for the person that deserves it and just let me help you,” she says, but it’s clear in her voice that she wants to help. “You wanna yell at me for shooting at you or bringing you here or locking you up, fine. But I didn’t hit you.”

He stands up and walks over to her, sitting down across from her, slightly more at ease now, “I don’t think I have to yell at you for almost shooting me...considering you weren’t even close.”

She shakes her head, “Well I’m not usually a guard. But a friend had a date. So I took over for him. I was hoping you guys wouldn’t make me really use the gun. I’m not bad with one, I just don’t like them.” 

“Yeah, that was pretty clear,” he says, smiling more genuinely at her. “I was actually thinking of how I could get that gun away from you. Guess it would have been pretty easy.”

She opens up the gauze and puts on the liquid that Clarke said to clean out his wounds with. “Probably. But you wouldn’t have felt good about beating up a girl later. And then you’d be out there still right now, for the Reapers,” she shudders involuntarily, “You don’t want to be out there when the Reapers come, trust me.”

She’s about to press it to his forehead when she says gently. “This might sting a little.”

"Reapers?" he asks interested. But he pulls back quickly, hissing when she presses the cloth to the infected cut on his head, "Ahh, what the hell is that? That shucking burns."

“Yeah,” she says with a nod, “They’re our enemies. Sort of.” They aren’t in a direct conflict with them like they are with the Grounders, but the Grounders say the Reapers are coming. And from what Clarke and Finn said about them, they sounded terrifying. “They’re Earthborne...and they eat people. The Grounders said that they’ll be coming through, looking for food soon. But The Grounders actually are our enemies. They’re going to be attacking soon too, so we’re doubly screwed. And you guys have the safest seat in the house up here.”

He hisses and pulls back and she winces. “Sorry,” she says with a shrug, “I don’t know. Clarke said that your wounds might be infected. Stop being a baby and let me clean it out...before the infection spreads.”

Minho pouts when she calls him a baby, stealing himself up for the pain, letting her clean out his cut, “Fine, just...do whatever you need to do.”

He thinks for a moment, thinking these Reapers sound a lot like the Cranks they saw earlier - especially the eating people part. “So they eat people...but they’re not actually your enemy? There are worse people?”

She leans closer to him so that she can see the wound better, adding more medicine to the cloth as she cleans it. She gently turns his head, so she can get the wounds on the side of his face better. “Almost done,” she promises.

He turns his head when she moves it. Although it hurts, he finds it comforting the way she’s taking such care to clean him up - med-jacks back in the Glade were never so gentle with him...though they didn’t exactly look like she did either.

“We’ve never encountered them ourselves, but the Grounders said they would be coming. They may not even find us. Clarke has seen them once before, with Finn...said they were animalistic and brutal.”

“I don’t know if The Grounders are worse. But they are the only ones actually trying to kill us. So...” she trails off with a shrug before giving him a small smile, that doesn't ring true because she is clearly worried. “Don’t worry. Raven and Bellamy and the shooters, they’ll figure something out. No one’s going to die,” she pauses and reconsiders, “Not many people will die.”

“At least we’re in the safest place, huh?” he says, tutting softly. He doesn’t like the idea of a fight, especially one he’s not personally invested in. But he doesn't like the sound of just sitting back as something goes down outside. 

She tries to not make this any more painful than it has to be. She doesn't want to cause any of them more trouble than she already has.

"If I didn't hate small spaces, I'd almost want to be up here," she pauses, putting a bandage on one of the cuts. "But I couldn't just leave them down there, not knowing if Bellamy was okay...or Jasper or Monty. Even Clarke." She would die for them all if she had to.

“Yeah...I get it. I’d want to know what happened to my friends to. I’d want to be with them, actually...fighting, if I could,” he nods knowingly. “My name’s Minho,” he says, almost as an afterthought, realizing he hasn’t exactly introduced himself to this girl.

She chuckles when he introduces himself - it seems like such a mundane thing to do. "I'm Octavia," She responds with a grin as she finishes bandaging him. "Any other wounds I should take a look at?"

“Octavia…” he says, smiling to himself at her name - it was an interesting name. “I, um...well, I don’t think it’s too bad...nothing you can really do about it, but…” he says, leaning back a bit to lift up his shirt, showing her his abdomen - where there are large, dark purple bruises

She grins despite herself when he repeats her name. But she gasps slightly when she sees the dark bruises her own brother must have left behind on his stomach.

"I'm sorry," she says earnestly, because she doesn't think there is anything that can be done. Her fingertips brush against the dark purple flash of his bruises. She feels like normally she would make some meaningless flirty remark right now, if the situation weren't so serious, "Does it hurt to breathe or anything. If your ribs are broken they might need to be wrapped..."

He hisses softly when she touches his bruises, but he doesn’t pull away from her, “My stomach is purple...so, yeah, it kinda hurts to breathe.”

She wants to tease him about being testy, but she can’t quite bring herself to do it, seeing the pain he’s clearly in because she brought him here, because her brother picked him to get information out of.

“I should probably wrap your ribs, just in case,” she says quietly, getting more gauze. She looks up at him, into his eyes. “It will heal before you know it,” she tries to comfort him, knowing that must sound really lame when you’re as hurt as he is.

He looks back at her and nods, not mad with her at all. “Alright,” he says casually, “Do you think they’re broken?”

She chews on her bottom lip, "I don't know. I don't know how to check. That's more Clarke's area. I could get her to come look first if you want." She further offers, "I could get her to do it. It might be done better that way. But it might take her a while. She's sort of busy playing war games with Bellamy and Raven."

"I mean, if you know how to do it..." he offers with a little smile - he doesn't want to come right out and say he'd rather her do it, but he definitely likes her better than than that blonde girl anyway. "I'd like to be able to breathe properly right now anyway."

She smiles at him and nods, “Yeah, I know how to do it. I’ve had to wrap a few ribs in our time here.” She’s glad that he wants her to do it because she doesn’t really want to leave yet. But she knows that no one would appreciate this if they knew she was making it more than business.

“Good,” he says, pulling his shirt up more, sitting up straighter so she can wrap him up. He doesn’t feel self-conscious, he knows that, so he wonders why he feels a fluttering in his stomach as she scoots closer.

She moves closer to him, her body just mere inches from his, her hand holding the wrap in place at his side as she begins to wrap it around him. Her body moves closer as her arms encircle him and she passes the bandage back around pulling away again, repeating the process until it is wrapped firmly around him about five times and she uses a pin to put it in place.

“Feel better?”

He tries to take a deep breath, which is nearly impossible with the bandages on, but it doesn’t hurt quite so much with the pressure. “Feels better,” he says, running a hand over the bandages, “Feels like I can’t breath for a different reason. Hopefully we won’t need to make a run for it, right?”

She misses the warmth from the nearness of his body as she pulls away, but she still feels a slightly nervous thrumming inside of her - flutters, like butterflies. She reaches up and gently pulls his shirt down, her fingertips moving over his skin as she does so.

“Yeah, hopefully. If I know Bellamy, he’ll try to hold camp down for as long as possible. He built it up; he would hate to lose it.”

He sits back down across from her, nodding, interested. “Yeah...you have yourself a nice set up here. A place to call your own,” he says a little wistfully, remembering the Glade. He misses the Glade quite a bit sometimes - even though they all knew they were trapped, it was still nice, having a job, being safe, doing whatever they want.

She nods, “It is nice. Better than camping in the open woods, especially with the threats of Grounders around. And it’s a bit of home, I guess.”  
“What is this place anyway?” he says, nodding to the walls around them, “I mean, it’s just like this...metal house in the middle of the woods?”

“This thing,” she taps the floor, “is a space ship, a drop ship. It’s how we were sent down here from space.”

He raises his eyebrows - he thought telling her they’re from a maze sounded crazy before, but this is equally as crazy. “Space?” he says questioningly, “Like...up there? You were up there?” He points up to the ceiling.

“Way, way, up there,” she teases with a touch of sarcasm. “Yeah, we lived on a space station called the ark. It’s been up there for about a hundred years.”

“A space station?” he says, confused, not even be able to think of how something could stay up in space - he wasn’t even sure if that was possible. “Like...these things, this...drop ship was up in space?”

She nods, “Attached to a much larger structure. This was only made to hold 100 of us. There are thousands still up there in the ark. It’s...huge.” Not that she would have known, she never got to see much of it - being under the floor, “But, yeah, we rode this thing down...and crashed. Not everyone survived the arrival.”

“Wow,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t even know how something like that would stay up...up there. Or come down.” It was all more than he had ever thought of before.

“It orbits sort of,” she says, trying to explain, “It has a lot of engines and thrusters and there are people who know how much we can drift in all directions. The engines keep turn holding it in place, in it’s orbit, so it doesn’t run into any planets or the sun or the moon…”

“Maybe if we can ever go home, you could come see it if you wanted. But once you’re up there, I promise you it is pretty lame,” she talks about home with a certain level of distaste. “They’re supposed to join us here eventually.” Down here at least she wasn’t using up the valuable resources of those who had a right to be alive, according to her government.

He snorts at the way she talks about her home, “Sounds like you don’t want to go home even if you could. So you have people coming to join you? Are they going to help with the people that wanna kill you?”

She takes a deep breath and shrugs, “Maybe.” Though, she sort of hoped they would never come.

“Well, if you need any help,” he says casually, “I’m sure we could help. If that leader guy would let us out of here.”  
The rest of the gang has been watching them carefully, especially after it was clear that it wasn’t just about patching him up anymore. Newt gets up and walks over to them, putting a hand on Minho’s shoulder, “All fixed up now?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking up to his friend, “Octavia was talking about the people coming to attack them. She thought we were them...which is why we’re up here.”

“Sure, yeah, of course,” Newt says, still a little suspicious of the situation, though it’s clear Minho is not anymore.

Octavia offers Newt a small smile, though she feels it’s clear that this boy doesn’t want to be friendly, at least not yet, “I could talk to Bellamy. But I’d need more than it’ll increase our numbers, like what are some of you good at specifically.”

Newt nods thoughtfully - not that he's entirely sold on the idea of helping out the people who locked them up, but it was better than sitting around here doing nothing, "Yeah...we can get you a list of what we're all good at."

She pulls a bottle of pills out of her pocket, opening it and shaking out six, not a full dose, but as Clarke said, resources had to be rationed. Bellamy didn’t exactly want to give him any antibiotics since Minho was not one of them, “Clarke says you should take two a day - one in the morning, one at night - for the next three days, to help you fight off the infection.”

"Thanks," Minho says as he takes the pills. He dry swallows one of them now, putting the rest in his pocket. "One, twice a day. Got it.”

She gives him a soft smile her tone gentle when she speaks, "Good. I want to see you looking better the next time I see you."

She thinks that maybe she should feel awkward and she does maybe a little, but only a little. She looks to Newt, "If you can do that, I can at least get Clarke up here to listen. Then we can both work on convincing Bellamy."

Minho smiles and nods to her, “We can do that. Right?”

Newt sighs softly and nods, “Right.” He thinks that Minho’s feelings might be getting in the way right now, but he hopes he’s wrong...that his friend wouldn’t say something stupid over a girl. 

Newt tugs him back up and Minho gives her a quick smile and nod, “Thanks again.” They head back over to sit with their little group, but Minho continues to look behind him, watching Octavia as she heads back down, out of the hatch.


End file.
